Moon Man
by Another Cat Girl
Summary: {1 of 6 chapters, Post OotP, spoilers} Remus J. Lupin. Forever destined to be alone, death mockingly took his only friends. Was he ever meant to feel contentment? Or is his fate destined to be dark, himself forsaken?


The lyrics and title came from the children's book "Moon Song" by Mildred Plew Meigs, which originally appeared in _Child Life_ magazine. The children's book is copyrighted 1923, 1954 by Rand McNally Company. 

Harry Potter text and characters are copyrighted by Mrs. J. K. Rowling, 2000. The Harry Potter books are published by Scholastic Press, a division of Scholastic Inc.

Chapter One: "Pipe Song"

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Zoon, zoon, cuddle and croon- 

Over the crinkling sea,

The moon man flings him a silvered net

Fashioned of moonbeams three.

The moon was almost full. 

He could never deny the unmistakable feeling; that luminous satellite called to him as she glowed bright in reflected rays of the sun. She stole the glory of Apollo's chariot to force him to know it, to pay attention to her; helpless, he could only wait impatiently until the portentous sphere waxed and waned again, temporarily relieving the strain of anticipation.

Remus J. Lupin squinted up at the moon hatefully. She was like a spiteful, wizened spinster and his abhorrence was a stronger feeling than he had ever felt. He knew her too personally, felt her power over him ebb and flow, despising the feel of it.

He stood in a forested clearing sprinkled with stars, his battered suitcase at his heels, his robes worn and dusty. It had been four days since his last contact with another human being. He had applied for yet another job, for an insurance company this time, but was turned down again, like an ugly wallflower at a big social gathering. Lupin couldn't blame the poor parochial idiots, either. He would have been brought up hating werewolves as well, if he hadn't been bitten that fateful day.

He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully, still glaring at the moon. 

If someone would just destroy her…? Could that possibly help? 

He shook his head, knowing where that thought led; he had followed it hopefully, hopelessly countless times.

He grinned sourly and continued his journey, wishing he had enough money for other means of transportation, but not willing to traverse that line of thought as well. He had little else to think about. Money and the moon. Moony. Money. 

Lupin winced and pulled out a book in an effort to escape the boredom that always threatened to eat his sanity when he was left without company for so long. He glared at the book intently. 

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I've already read this! 

Lupin stuffed it back in his pocket irately. 

Then he heard the sound. 

The werewolf became very still, listening to the soft melody play around his eardrums. 

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Siren?

Lupin looked to his right unconsciously, the incandescent tune invariably pulling from that direction. From the sea. 

He knew, of course, that he shouldn't follow it. That it was foolish of him to gather his suitcase and begin to walk. He tried to tell himself that death waited for him if he followed that voice, but he couldn't help himself. Logic could _never_ prevail over the power of that sound, the notes barely sustaining themselves in the cool air, but still having such a profound affect on him that he was nearly weeping.

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'Alone! ' it crooned!

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No one's left!

It doesn't even matter, my friend!

It doesn't matter what happens…we will always_ be alone!_

He walked on, tripping over unseen things in the dark, his heart willing to believe the unearthly song, combating his unwilling, unchanging mind, which screamed at him of the danger.

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You have no one!

He shook his head. He had stumbled from the last vestiges of foliage onto a white, star-streaked beach. 

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Like me…

To the left. He turned as obediently as a child, invisible strings controlling him. The musician was mourning…

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No! It's just an ugly trap! So obvious! His mind screamed.

His feet stopped. His heart answered, _And what if it is? What then? _

He laughed; a croaking sound, mocking, horrible.

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It's not like anyone will care if you die! a sinister, jealous, small voice said on the other side of his consciousness. _They would _thank _you for ridding them of another werewolf! No one wants you in their midst!_

His mind acknowledged that, dismayed. _But what of the Order?_

Admit it, the ugly part of him sneered. _They never really needed you. You aren't as helpful as they try to make you feel…_

His soul agreed on that, reluctantly. 

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But they still need you. This is the coward's way out, the small part of him that was valorous insisted patiently.

Lupin smiled and shook his head, suddenly, regretfully making his decision. 

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It's not so easy, he thought to himself. _They aren't there anymore. They were the only ones to accept me as myself. If they are not here, then there is nothing left, as the song says. _

He slowly, achingly started to walk again, the sand skidding against his boots, the moon shining curiously down at her slave, wondering what he was about to do. His mind raced with questions he knew he should have asked someone, anyone before this. He was fearful, but knew that natural response to death well. 

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My real friends. 

The moon's light ached against his eyes. Now she would have no more power over him, at last. Or maybe, she would have overwhelming dominion instead…?

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Will I come to be in the same endless fields as you? 

The waves crashed against the shore. Eternally…?

In heaven, do you sleep or are you awake? 

The suit case dropped from his hands.

Is heaven biased against cowards? Monsters?

He was nearly there. The song raced through his blood thoughtfully.

Heaven made me what I am…

Remus Lupin knelt, deferentially, instinctively. He knew it was time. The music was near him; perpetual loneliness. 

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Will I be content…to race in everlasting pastures…? 

And some folk say when the net lies along

And the midnight hour is ripe;

The moon man fishes for some old song

That fell from a sailor's pipe.


End file.
